


Snow Witch

by Natasi (SwordDraconis113)



Series: Witchery [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, F/F, First Kiss, mentions of Red Riding Hood/Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 16:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwordDraconis113/pseuds/Natasi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you lost, little wolf?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Witch

Red trod cautiously through the snow, wrapping her cloak tighter against the bitter wind. She should be home. She should be getting dinner ready for Granny, not wandering around the skirts of her village hoping to run into Peter. Already, the snow was almost two feet deep.

Letting out a deep sigh, she watched her breath curl around in the air before smoking away. It was a stupid idea, after all. Peter was probably still out hunting, or being smart and in his own home, waiting on dinner. She shouldn’t have tried to catch him ‘casually’ on his way back from the eastern hunting grounds.

Her skin ripples as she took another step, only for her foot slip through the snow abruptly, bringing out a small yelp from the sudden movement.

Looking down, Red blinked as she tugged her hood further over her head against the winds. Looking over the carpeted snow from where her foot had fallen, she noticed the recent north-western footsteps in front of it, not yet covered by a thin blanket of snow.

It was only a brief curiosity that dragged her closer,  taking another step, then another as she headed to where the footsteps lead. 

A tight feeling constricted her breath as she followed them. She figured that either someone was ahead of her, or that she’d kept her head down further than she realized and was now walking in circles. She doubted the latter, purely due to her own stubborn belief that she couldn’t be so far in her thoughts to circle around the town.

However, sharp winds from before had kept her head low, making it hard to see too far around her, and snow covered landmarks, making it difficult to tell one area from another, but she wasn’t lost.

Red clutched at the edges of her cloak tighter and continued to follow the footsteps deeper into the woods. The trees were tall here. Tall and still a vibrant green against the snowfall. She couldn’t be _that_ lost. The woods were to one side to the village, all she had to do was find the river, follow it out past the wide-banks and then circle back to her home.

“Lost, dear?”

Gasping, Red turned sharply to the voice. Behind her, a woman stood poised against a tree, her lips painted a shade of burgundy with dark, shadowed eyes that glimmered like hot coals. 

Blinking, Red’s eyes went from the one hand on the woman’s hip, to the other balancing her against the pine tree. She could see that that unlike herself, the strange woman wasn’t dressed in a thick cloak, shivering against the cold. Instead, she had her hair pulled back in a thick, stylized knot, seemingly obliviously to the sharp winds that were whipping around them.

It was then that Ruby’s eyes dropped down, looking over the outfit the woman wore. She started low, following the high, black-metal boots, before then running her eyes up the long, high slit in thin, dark red skirt. Three leather belts enlaced the woman hips, over the silver-lined, dark corset. However, the warmth she could see was with both hands that wore thin, brown material gloves, but only one slid up the entire arm. The other was cut off at the wrist. On bicep of that arm, however, enlaced similar leather cuff, to that of the belts.

She was, to say the least, a striking image. Everything about her screamed witch. Though the way she peered out from the dark eyelashes made Red’s stomach clench uncomfortably.

“Hello.”

“Hello,” the woman returned, her voice rich and smooth. Swallowing, Red watched as the woman’s lips twisted sharply in amusement.

Smiling back shakily, she kept her eyes steady on the face, trying to observe the woman as a whole from that point. If she kept her eyes open, perhaps she’d see a deadly hand movement before it was too late. 

But she couldn’t run, the snow would trip her if her own cloak didn’t. It was safer to play pleasantries then risk offending her by running. No doubt, the woman could barricade her in place with magic if she really was a witch.

“Are you lost, little wolf?”

Blinking, she met the witch’s eyes and found herself lost there. They were dark, swallowing her in with glints of a rich brown giving away the iris’ colour. “Aren’t you cold?” Red asked. Her own rudeness broke the mesmerization. Horrified at her own words, Red snapped her hands to her mouth, gasping behind her gloves. “I’m sorry!”

The woman laughed. “Come closer, dear and I’ll show you how.”

“Show me?”

A gloved hand stretched out and curled, calling Red closer. Staring at it, Red wondered if it was really calling her, or her heartbeat. The gesture caused the muscle inside of her to leap and pound faster inside of her.

“Are you going to hurt me?” she asked, looking back to the dark eyes.

The smirk fell from the woman’s lips and slowly she tilted her head. “Do you think I will?”

“I don’t know,” Red admitted.

The hand slowly fell to the woman’s side, smoothing over her corset and dusting snowflakes from it. Red watched as she then pushed off from the tree she’d been leaning against, to walk over, towards her.

The sound of snow crushing beneath the metal boots, filled Red’s ears as she stared fearfully frozen in place. The witch was coming over, and the only thing she could do was breathe in through a shivers, her teeth chatting with the cold. 

The witch offered no words, only lifting a black gloved hand to cup her cheek. Slowly, Red felt the cold melt away from her as if the hand pouring warm honey through her body. Slowly the warmth trickled down her, curling in her stomach until it seemingly overflowed and ran over the rest of her. “Are you afraid?” the woman asked her.

Red nodded. Taking a breath, she realized her mouth was agape and her eyes wide open as she stared up-close at the witch.

She was a witch. She had to be. How else was she pouring heat through her fingers. A part of Red wanted to step forward wrap herself in the warmth until it was all she could feel around her.

“You smell like burning wood and flowers,” Red told her, finding her self leaning into the woman. Sharply, she recoiled, stumbling back before curling back into her cloak. She was cold without the gloved hand against her cheek. Burning-cold where the heat had rested. “Sorry.”

“What’s your name, little wolf?” the witch asked her.

Red paused, her mouth dry as she stared at the woman. Granny’s words sounded in her ear, and she suddenly aware of how far from home she was. Names were a powerful thing. Her grandmother had told stories of witches, able to control people with nothing else but their victim’s name. “Everyone calls me Red,” she told her.

“Red,” the woman echoed, smirking as she ran her eyes over the edges of the hood. “I can see why.”

“May I know your name?”

“It doesn’t seem fair to give you mine, if you won’t give me me yours.”

Red flushed, looking down at her hands. Awkwardly, she’d begun fidgeting, playing with a loose strand. Noticing it now, she set her hands by her sides, frowning at her lack of control. “I-I’m sorry,” she said again, meaning the apology. She hadn’t meant to be rude.

“Are you afraid of giving me your name?”

Red looked up, feeling heat burn over cheeks at the question. Yes. She was afraid of saying the wrong thing. Afraid of offending the witch. “I-”

“It’s quite alright,” the witch teased, turning around to walk aimlessly away. “A strange woman appears outside of your village, asking for your name. I think that rightfully calls for suspicion.” She smiled over her shoulder, slowly turning back around to face her. Red’s teeth began chattering, noticing the cold more since she’d lost the warm touch.

Clenching her jaw, she took a step in the metal-boot steps. “How about a nickname?” she asked. “Or what people call you?”

“Or a gesture of good faith?” the witch offered, instead. “I’ll tell you mine, but you don’t have to tell me yours.”

“O-okay,” she shivered.

“But. I will ask for something in return. Not everything can be free after all.”

“W-what do you want?” Red grimaced at the stutter. She didn’t mean to sound afraid. Maybe the witch-woman would mistaken the stutter for the cold. She hoped she would. “Do you want…a lock of my hair,” she asked her, “My firstborn child, or something? I don’t know. I mean...what...does your kind want?”

“My kind?”

Oh, _hell_. She hadn’t meant to sound accusing. “I just- that was rude. I just thought that with the warmth, the err, the touch. That you were...magical?”

The woman’s head tilted again, studying her. “What kind of magical creature?”

“A...witch?” the word came out stretched, childish in the question. Dropping her eyes, she began fiddling again as the woman took a step closer. She could feel her heart racing, pounding up her throat, into her skull, until it was all she could hear. She was going to die, going to be eaten. She just knew it. Her and her stupid mouth.

“You’re a clever girl.” Red yelped at how close the woman was so-suddenly. She hadn’t heard her approach. “Is that why you’re afraid, little wolf?” She didn’t reply. Red kept her eyes unblinking as she watched the woman lean in. The scent of wood fire, and warmth enveloped her until she could almost see hot coals in the woman’s eyes, crackling as she stared back. “What are you afraid I’ll do?”

“Steal…?”

“Steal what?” her words were quiet, whispered so the heat curled over Red’s own lips.

“Steal my heart,” Red replied.

A gloved hand lifted up, pressing over the rapid pounding, over her dress and her cloak. Could she feel it beneath her fingertips? Red wondered. Could she feel how afraid she was? “Are you scared, little wolf?” she asked again. The question surrounding her until it was all she knew.

“Yes.”

“Scared that I’ll reach in, and pluck that beating red heart from your chest?”

“Y-yes.” She trembled, feeling the hand slip under cloak. It was warm, so warm that she could almost feel it scorching her through her dress. “Will you?” Red asked.

“Do you believe that all witches wander around woods, looking for lost little wolf pups?”

“I-I’m sorry if I offended you. It wasn’t my intention.”

“There’s no need to apologize, my dear. I am a witch, but I am not here to steal your heart. Not today, at least.” She chuckled, amused at her own private joke as she pressed closer to Red.

Quietly, Red breathed in, overwhelmed by the warmth. It was like laying in front of a fire. Like summer and sunlight, and fur blankets. In the snowfall, she was almost more afraid to move away than she was of the witch herself. “What do you want?” she asked her softly. “For your name, if it’s not my heart.” She gasped as the hand slipped away from her heart, over her breast to settle on her waist. Regina’s other hand slipped through the cloak to place against her other side and it felt like static was rocking between her hands, pooling hot honey into her belly again.

“It’s been a long time since anyone asked what I want.”

“Why?”

“Why indeed.”

Red frowned, confused at the words. Before she could ask about it, the woman distracted her by leaning in so close, Red could taste spiced-sweetness of her breath. It buzzed through her, making her aware of nothing else. Shutting her eyes, she sucked in a long, slow breath, trying to get another taste. It wasn’t enough. She was dizzy, hungry and desperate for one more.

Heart slowing, Red pushed up on her feet gently, angling her head just slightly as she inched herself closer to her breath. To the woman’s lips and tongue.

A chuckle ran over, rushing from the witch’s finger tips. It shuddered over her body until Red fell back on the balls of her feet, blinking in surprise at her actions. “I’m sorry,” she repeated again, looking up at the smirk. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Did you want to?” the woman asked in return. Her gloved hands slid up Red’s sides, and another shiver spilled down her back. No, she should tell her. No. I don’t want to kiss you. I don’t want to know how sweet you taste.

“Maybe?” she said instead.

The kiss came quickly, pressing hard onto her lips until she was pushing up on her feet to kiss back. Lifting her hands up, she grasped at the woman’s bare shoulders, feeling how hot the skin was beneath her own gloved hands. By the gods, everything about her was warm, and hot. And so very hot. Were all kisses like this?

Slammed back against a tree, she moaned into her mouth, grasping tighter at the witch. Glovers clinging to her arms, she slid over the shoulders, pulling her close as she felt teeth tug at her bottom lip.

It was hard, and vicious. She could feel hands sliding up her her dress, edging where her breasts itched, needing to be touch, before pulling away. She could feel the witch’s hands settling on her hips while she kissed back with everything she had. Was she doing something wrong? She was so unsure of her own movements, copying and half-afraid the woman might pull away and laugh at her half the time, while the other half was spent melting and moaning in her mouth, desperate to taste and feel, and- _o-oh_.

Is this kissing? What all the village girls were talking about.

Red shivered, despite her fears. She was too desperate for the warmth, the overwhelming taste of spice and sweetness that intoxicated her. She didn’t ever want this to end.

But the witch pulled away, a finger and thumb holding Red’s chin, giving her a last kiss as the girl let out an involuntary whine. But the witch didn’t say anything, didn’t smile. Her lips paused in a frown as she searched Red’s eyes curiously.

For a moment, all Red saw in front of her, was a fractured girl. Similar to heartbroken village women she’d seen before after losing a child, or a husband to the cold. Nothing of the proud, regal witch she’d seen before. But the mask slid in place, her features shifting – though unchanged – as the trademark smirk pushed over her. The witch stepped back, hands dropping away from the red cloak to pose on her own hips.

Red already missed the touch.

“May I know your name, now?” she asked her.

“Why do you want to know?” the witch asked.

Pausing, Red wondering if she was suddenly being tested. But exhilaration of the kiss pounded inside of her, and instead of answering, she shook her head, pulling up her hood against the cold. The wind had stopped, she realized, but she still had to get back before dark. The last of whatever sunlight made it behind the clouds, would be leaving soon.

“I didn’t tell you my name,” she replied abruptly. “It’s only fair that you don’t have to tell me yours.” Making a move to leave, Red found her hand snatched before she was pulled back to face the witch.

For a second, she believed her heart would be stolen from her. But the hand dropped away, leaving her frozen in place, her wrist scorching in the exposed ice winds.

“Regina. My name is Regina.”

Red smiled at her, feeling a new warmth spill over her cheeks. “Regina… That’s a lovely name,” she told her.

Smiling softly, Regina stepped backwards. “Goodbye, Red.”

“Wait! Will I ever see you again?” she asked before the witch could leave without any further warning. “Will you come back?”

“Maybe,” she teased. “Maybe next time I’ll steal your heart.” Taking another step backwards, she winked at Red. “I think I hear people searching for you.” Red looked behind her, squinting at moving shadows in the sunset.

“It’s probably just-” she blinked, looking over where Regina had stood. Nothing remained but an empty set of footsteps. No others, aside from the ones leading to hers, existed. “...The hunting party,” she finished, confused as she looked around. Had she just vanished in a puff of smoke? Without another sound?

Could witches really do that?

“Red, is that you?”

Turning around, she beamed despite what had just happened, as Peter jogged through the snow, away from the hunting party. “Red, are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m just a little lost. There was a…” taking a breath, she smiled and shook her head. He didn’t need to know. Nobody did. “I got turned around in my own footsteps, that’s all. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Taking her hand, he smiled at her. “Come on, I’ll take you home.” Red looked down, feeling a slight flutter in her chest as he squeezed. It was different to kissing Regina. It was warm, and it felt comfortable. Like...getting into dry clothes after a snowstorm.

“Did you find anything?” she asked him, walking back over to the rest of the hunting party. She could see them carry some animals. So the hunt wasn’t a complete disaster, then.

“Some things. Not much, but it should get us through the winter with everything else.” Red smiled, squeezing her hand around his. But as she began to walk back with the others, she couldn’t help but look behind her one last time.

She didn’t know what she expected to see. There was no smoke, sign of movement or dark shadows. No Regina.

But it happened, it was real. She had bruised lips to prove it. She just hoped that one day, maybe, she could see her again.

**Author's Note:**

> Regina's outfit was inspired by [this Morrigan artwork](http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Witch-of-the-Wilds-343586711) from dA


End file.
